


Dichotomy

by SerpentineJ



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Business, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Claulois, Fluff, Grelliam, M/M, SebaCiel - Freeform, with plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-09 17:10:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3257804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerpentineJ/pseuds/SerpentineJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern Business AU. Sebastian, Claude, William and Grell are longtime employees of the Funtom Company executive branch under CEO Vincent Phantomhive. Newcomers, recent college graduates, and best friends Ciel and Alois quickly integrate themselves into the workplace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Slate

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: HOLY SHIT THERE’S ACTUALLY A PLOT!
> 
> So I’ve had this kind of floating around on my computer for a couple months now and I figured I’d post it, if only to get some feedback. Currently it’s been written up to Ch. 4 and I have a whole plot lined up (like, 20 chapters long) but I haven’t decided whether I should put it off for now.
> 
> In this, Sebastian, Claude, Will and Grell are all fairly young; probably ranging from mid to late 20s. Alois and Ciel are fresh out of university, so early 20s.
> 
> Oh, cool note: All the chapter titles are color names!

The rain falls lightly from the dreary London sky, splattering on the pavement, pattering gently on green-and-white striped awnings of small shops and cafes and chilling the people on the street. It is a typical English day, cold and slate-gray, doing little to lift the mood of the passerby around.

Ciel huffs and draws his thick woolen coat tighter around him, cloudy blue and chalky monochrome to match the clouded heavens, breath frosting and raindrops tapping on his umbrella as he strides down the street. Black boots click neatly against the slick cobblestone. A blond races after him, struggling with his own umbrella, a piece of buttered toast sticking out of his mouth.

The parasol opens with a ‘whump’, deep purple contrasting with the warmly glittering storefronts, and Alois catches up to his blue-haired friend.

“Oi!” He laughs, removing the food from its place between his lips. “Don’t leave me behind!”

Ciel glances at him and smiles lopsidedly. “I knew you’d catch up.”

The blond rolls his eyes and takes a bite of his breakfast, munching on the bread, and looks to his friend. “Did you get any breakfast?”

“Didn’t have time.”

“Honestly.” Trancy breaks the remains of his toast in half. “Here. Sometimes I swear I’m your mother.”

Ciel snorts, taking the toast. “I hope not; I’ve discussed things with you that I don’t ever want my mother to know about.”

“Speaking of…” Alois grins mischievously at him, straight white teeth gleaming. “Think there’ll be any hot guys at the office?”

It’s Phantomhive’s turn to scoff. “Please. It is my father’s place of business, not a brothel. Please refrain from hitting on any of the employees.”

“Oh, but what if he’s there?” The blonde fake-swoons dramatically, adopting a sappy expression and putting his hand to his forehead. “My tall, dark Prince Charming, waiting to sweep me away and have his wicked way with me-“

Ciel whacks him in the head with the hand not currently occupied with his umbrella, grinning nonetheless. “Shut it, you.”

They continue down the street, joking and laughing, cheerful despite the misery of the city around them. The rain falls, the clouds gather, and the dreary London weather does nothing to ease the minds or worries of its denizens.

~~~~~~

The two arrive at Funtom Co.’s business headquarters without delay. As soon as Ciel steps through the door, shaking off his umbrella and raising his eyebrows at his friend, who is struggling to shut his own parasol, the lift opens and a gray-haired man steps out. 

Phantomhive smiles immediately upon seeing him. The golden monocle shines on the man’s face and his well-fitted tailcoat gives him a distinguished silhouette. 

“Mr. Phantomhive. Or should I say, Mr. Pembrooke.” Tanaka bows slightly, one gloved had resting above his heart. “I hope you are well.”

Alois jogs up, having wrestled his umbrella shut and wrangled it into a plastic bag. “Oh, Mr. Tanaka! How good to see you!”

The elder gentleman smiles serenely and inclines his head, straightening up. “Mr. Trancy. Well, Mr. Macken. Welcome. I have been given the task of showing you two around the headquarters.”

Ciel turns to his friend. “Tanaka has a strict policy of keeping his home life and his presence in the business world separate entities, so he’ll stay entirely professional, even though we’re old family friends. I believe he and my father are the only ones in this building who know of our true identities.” He chuckles.

“Oh, right.” Trancy nods. “The whole anti-nepotism thing, what with you being the CEO’s son and our families being closely linked. Right.”

“It is for the best.” Tanaka turns and heads towards the lift. “This way, then.”

~~~~~~

When the elevator stops, Tanaka ushers them into a large, glass walled room that seems to take up half the floor. The morning sun softens the walls, muted by the overcast clouds, and there are cream plush couches arranged artfully on a rug in the middle of the room.

The men sitting on them, though, are much more interesting.

“This is them.” Tanaka waves a hand at the pair at his side and withdraws to the kitchen side of the room, seemingly making himself a cup of tea in a Japanese teapot.

The redheaded one looks up, eyes brilliantly green in contrast to the scarlet glasses perched on his nose. He is flamboyantly dressed in a white shirt, collar sticking up and tie loosened, waistcoat delicately pinstriped, a long red coat draped from his elbows.

“Oh, you must be the new execs!” He jumps up and curtsies sarcastically, maintaining eye contact and grinning like a Cheshire Cat. “Grell Sutcliff. Call me Grell. I’m the Head of Business Ops. It’s so good to get fresh young blood around here.”

Alois, ever the sociable one, smirks back and steps up. “Alois Macken. The new Head of Personnel.”

Grell cocks his head. “Oooh, daring. How tasty.” He smirks.

“Lay off, Grell.” Another man speaks up; silky, artfully mussed hair, black tailcoat, frameless glasses and striking yellow eyes. He stands and nods. “Claude Faustus, Head of Marketing and Public Relations.”

Ciel straightens his shoulders. “Greetings. Ciel Pembrooke. I’m taking the position of Head of Research and Development.” He glares at the blue-haired man he can see smirking from his place on the ottoman. 

At Ciel’s frown the man gets up, all long-limbed grace and benevolent smiles, his amusement masked by pleasantry for now. “Vincent Phantomhive, CEO.” He gestures to Tanaka. “And that’s Tanaka, my CFO.”

Alois bows. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Phantomhive, sir.” He looks up, smirking.

Ciel sighs inaudibly and bows as well. “It’s an honor, sir.”

Later, someone in the CEO’s office will be heard howling with laughter. For now, though, Vincent Phantomhive keeps a pleasant smile on his face. “Welcome, Mr. Macken, Mr. Pembrooke.”

There’s a sigh from the doorway and everyone looks around. Two more men are standing in the doorway to the hall.

“Ah.” The one with glasses adjusts them with a nudge. “These must be the newcomers.”

Vincent nods. “Indeed.”

Glasses makes his way forwards. “Well, in that case, I am William T. Spears, Head of the IT department.”

“Sebastian Michaelis.” The man beside him says, smirking. Both of them are tall with black hair; the main difference between the two is their eyes and facial expressions. Spears has lime green eyes only partially obscured by his spectacles and his face is set in a carefully cold mask; Michaelis has the strangest brown eyes… in the light they almost appear red. Sanguine. He’s smirking. “Head of Sales, at your service.”

Alois laughs. “Alois Macken and Ciel Pembrooke.” He cocks his head, still smiling. Ciel mentally sighs; Alois has always been the more personable of them. “Blimey, is everyone around here tall and black-haired? The exception being you, of course, Grell.” He adds. “Your red hair is quite lovely.”

“Why thank you.” The redhead is grinning. “You aren’t so bad yourself, blondie.”

William coughs. “Vincent, I believe you wanted us to show the newcomers to their offices?”

Phantomhive gestures at him. “Yes, please. If anyone needs me, I’ll be in my office.”

~~~~~~

“This is the Head of Personnel’s office.” William opens the door to reveal a spacious study; one wall is entirely made of glass, the view framing the London skyline in all its bustling, drenched glory. “Across the hall is the Head of R&D’s.” He adjusts his spectacles. “I trust you can both find your way from here. If you need directions, ask Tanaka.”

With that, Spears departs, striding neatly from the room. 

Alois immediately beams, throwing his arms open and spinning around in his new office, purple coat flaring around his hips.

“Isn’t this great, Ciel?” He laughs, trotting behind his desk and throwing himself into the tall leather swivel chair. 

Phantomhive sighs. “Speak for yourself. At least Macken suits you: I have to pretend my last name is Pembrooke.”

“And what’s so bad about Pembrooke?”

He turns around, startled. 

“Father.” Ciel sighs, rubbing his forehead. “I hope the kitchen is stocked with Darjeeling.”


	2. Coral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian shows Ciel around his new department. The Phantomhive servants make their first appearances (and impressions...)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: So apparently this isn’t horrible! I have a few chaps of this pre-written, but updates will probably be sporadic, due to me spontaneously switching fandoms/being weighed down with school in general. 
> 
> Well, I promised this this weekend, so enjoy!

Ciel is setting up in his office when there’s a rap on his door, sharp and somehow cold. 

“Come in.” He says, already weary. His chair seems to dwarf him and he makes a mental note to get some kind of supporting cushion.

William opens the door holding a box. “Pembrooke.”

Ciel waves at him. “Please, call me Ciel. Pembrooke is what my chemistry professor called me when he was cross.”

The other raises an eyebrow. “…Ciel, then. I have your computer.”

The computer turns out to be a top-of-the-line laptop, a large external monitor, and a new touch phone; even with the IT head’s electronic expertise, it takes them twenty minutes to set up and connect all the devices, the bespectacled man carefully wiring a power strip behind the desk. 

“Thank you.” Phantomhive smiles at him, unsurprised when Spears doesn’t respond with more than a nod, turning on his heel and walking out.

He’s only just sat down when Alois barges though the door. 

“Alois. What are you doing here?” He sighs.

The blonde is frowning. “Ciel, do you know what we’re supposed to be doing?”

He doesn’t, he realizes. 

“Er. No, actually.”

“D’you want to go find your dad?”

Ciel frowns. “That’s… actually the last thing I want to do. We need to figure it out on our own. How would it look if our first actions as exec heads were to ask what we were supposed to be doing?”

“…yeah, actually, that wouldn’t be great.” Alois huffs, sitting down in the armchair across Ciel. 

~~~~~~

“Fuck.” 

“Hurry up, Ciel.”

“Shut up. I’m trying.”

“Fuck!”

“Hah. Got it.”

“Fucking hell.”

“Yessss.”

Alois scowls at the chessboard on the desk between them. “But I play white, why do I always lose to you?”

“Skill, my dear Trancy.” Ciel smirks, leaning back in his desk chair. “Skill.”

~~~~~~

Eventually there is another knock on the door.

“Come in.” Ciel says, looking up from their game.

Sebastian Michaelis opens the door. 

“You are Research and Development, correct?” He asks, head cocked.

Phantomhive keeps his brow smooth and unburdened, the glass face of an indifferent sea. “Yes, I am.”

The other grins. “Well, Mr. Pembrooke. If you’ll come with me, I’ll show you to your department.” He turns. “Mr. Macken, someone should be along to show you around soon.”

Alois scoffs. “Please, just Alois. And call him Ciel, he hates the name Pembrooke.” He smirks at Ciel’s pointed glare.

“Only if you’ll call me Sebastian.” The man says. “Good day, Alois.”

Ciel nods. “See you later, Al.”

~~~~~~

“Research and Development is on the 9th floor.” Sebastian steps into the elevator, pressing the button with one long, white-gloved finger. “The stand-in Assistant Head is actually Tanaka because he used to be the Head before he was promoted, and the current supervisors are named Finnian, Mei-Rin, and Baldroy.”

Ciel straightens up. “Good. Anyone I should be concerned about?”

The other chuckles. “Finnian is stronger than he knows, Mei-Rin is a bit clumsy and more than a bit socially awkward, and Baldroy is a pyrotechnic. But they are all brilliant inventors and have been with Funtom Company for a good while.”

“None of them are going to try to steal my job, are they?” Phantomhive drawls. “Because I just got it and I’m rather fond of it.”

“No, no.” Sebastian shakes his head. “Actually, all three made statements when the former head of R&D retired, saying they didn’t want the job. Apparently they’re happiest where they are, which deals with far less paperwork. I had been managing the department temporarily until you were hired.”

The other exhales. “Well, that’s one less thing for me to worry about.”

~~~~~~

The lift dings, doors sliding open without a sound. Sebastian and Ciel step out into the front office.

“Hello.” Michaelis approaches the receptionists’ desk. “I’m Sebastian Michaelis and this is the new Head of R&D.”

“Ciel Ph-Pembrook.” He catches himself. 

The pale, white-haired boy at the desk looks up; his eyes are odd, with yellow irises and seemingly slit-like pupils. 

“Hello.” He says. He’s quiet, Ciel notices, not from shyness but out of preference. “I’m Snake.”

~~~~~~

They make their way to the back, passing a few empty offices. Suddenly there’s a shout, a flash, and a bang; the thick scent of smoke filters through the air and Ciel frowns. 

“We’d best make haste.” Sebastian sighs and speeds his stride. “Really. Always one thing or another.”

~~~~~~

“Finny! Get the fire extinguisher!” A blond man shouts, batting at the fire with what looks like a towel in an attempt to put it out. “Mei-Rin, find the fire blanket!”

Ciel raises an eyebrow. 

The man who seems to be giving the orders looks up.

“Oh! Sebastian!” He abandons the towel and grins sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “Just a little blip, nothing to be concerned about. FINNY!” His sudden roar surprises everyone. “WHERE IS THAT FIRE EXTINGUISHER? Sorry about this.” The man sticks out a soot-covered hand. “I’m Baldroy. Call me Bard, everyone does. Well, everyone except him,” He jerks a thumb towards Sebastian. ”Will, and Claude. They’re much too prim and proper for that.”

A girl with purple hair runs up, stumbling over her own feet. “Bard, I got the- O-oh! Mr. Sebastian!” She blushes and nearly drops the fire blanket she’s holding.

“Ah! Thanks, Mei-Rin.” Bard grabs it from her arms and spreads it out, throwing it over the flames. “Finny, where’s that damned fire extinguisher!”

“Here!” Another blonde races to them carrying an industrial-size fire extinguisher. “Oh, hello, Mr. Sebastian! And who’s this?” He smiles widely, innocently at Ciel, eyes alight.

The blue-haired boy frowns. “I am Ciel Pembrooke, the new head of R&D.”

“O-oh!” Mei-Rin sputters and flaps her hands. “Ever so sorry for the mess, sir, it really doesn’t happen all that often…” At Sebastian’s sigh, she deflates. “Alright, maybe it does… semi-regularly. But it’s usually Bard’s fault, it is.”

“Oi!” Bard looks up from his place putting out the fire with Finny’s assistance. “It is not always my fault. Remember that time you nearly dropped an entire box of test tubes?”

The purple-haired girl huffs. “That wasn’t my fault, Finny didn’t tell me it weighed a thousand bloody kilos!”

Ciel sighs.

~~~~~~

“They really are scientific genii.” Sebastian grimaces as he hits the lift button for the executive floor. “It’s quite interesting, some of the things they come up with.”

Phantomhive looks up. “Hmm? Like what?”

The other chuckles. “Well, I believe Mei-Rin was the project leader for our Strawberry Fields product, the one that’s getting such rave reviews from the press. Baldroy used to work for Her Majesty as a chemical weapons scientist, and Finny made his big break by developing the extra-strength taffy that has been a Phantomhive classic for a few years now.”

“Really?” Ciel cocks an eyebrow. “Well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: As always, comments make me smile (and update faster ;))


	3. Amythest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude shows Alois around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: Internet props to anyone who can spot the Claude-related funnies in this chapter. :D

Alois sighs and leans back in his chair, kicking his feet up on the desk and twining his fingers behind his head.

A thought occurs to him.

“Where is the tea room in this behemoth building?” Trancy mutters, frowning and getting up. “Perhaps they’ll have Earl Grey.”

~~~~~~

The kettle steams gently, hissing and turning off with a click. The blonde is on the toes of his gleaming black boots to rifle through the cupboards, a box of teabags laying abandoned on the counter.

“What kind of British Fortune 500 company doesn’t have loose tea in the tea room?” He mutters, stretching to reach the high shelf. “Bloody hell. I hate Darjeeling.”

“There should be some tins of Earl Grey and chamomile on the top shelf.” A deep voice sounds from behind, startling Alois; he turns so fast he nearly falls off the small stepping stool he’s standing on. A hand comes to steady him, gentle pressure on the small of his back. “Don’t touch the green tea, though, that’s Tanaka’s. He challenged the last person who drank it without his permission to a duel, and Tanaka’s still standing.”

It’s the Head of Marketing. “Mr. Faustus.” Trancy gets down and turns around. “My apologies, I was not aware you were there.”

Something is odd about Faustus, Alois thinks. He’s typically the kind of person he’d be attracted to; tall, slightly imposing and well-dressed, carefully mussed black hair and sharp glasses. His eyes, though, are cold, despite their intriguing color. Neatly calculating. It gives him the shivers.

“Claude, please. We are all executives here.” He doesn’t smile but the eased set of his thin eyebrows and the quirk at the corners of his lips makes him look slightly… pleased.

The blonde smiles anyways. No need to be prickly; professional courtesy and all that. “Then I’m Alois.”

Claude breaks eye contact first to reach up to the highest shelf of the cupboard, retrieving the tea. “Here.” He hands the tin to the younger man. “I’ve been instructed to show you to the HR department, which I’ve been overseeing while Vincent looked for a new head.”

“Oh, marvelous.” Trancy turns away, towards the steaming kettle. “Would you like some tea?”

~~~~~~

“This is the Personnel, or Human Resources department.” The lift dings, depositing them on the 8th floor. “Research and Development is actually only one floor above, so please don’t be alarmed by the occasional explosion.” The corner of Claude’s mouth lifts ever so slightly. “That Baldroy is an absolute menace.”

Alois chuckles. “So this is my new kingdom.”

“Yes, your highness.” Faustus smirks and begins down the hall towards the main working area.

~~~~~~

The first person they meet is a Hannah Anafeloz, the Assistant Head. 

“Hello, sir.” She smiles and nods, long gray hair draping over her shoulders. Trancy notes her attire; a simple, modest navy blue dress. Professional. Good. “Welcome to HR.” 

“Hello.” He flashes her an award-winning grin, pearly whites perfectly straight and gleaming, taking her outstretched hand and shaking it. “Alois Macken, the new Head.”

“Alois… Macken. Luka Macken’s older brother.” Hannah chuckles. “I know. I was your younger brother’s Psychology teacher at Columbia before I was employed here. He spoke a great deal about you.”

“Oh, you know Luka?” Trancy raises his eyebrows. “That’s right, Professor Anafeloz. I’ve heard quite a bit about you as well; I’ll have to tell Luka I’m working with you, he’ll be overjoyed. He’s told you all good things, I hope.” He catches the knowing glance she sends him; seems like there is another who is aware of his true identity. Damn Luka and his big mouth.

“Pardon,” Claude interjects, “but, Hannah, do you know where Thompson and company are? I’d like to introduce them to Mr. Macken.”

She sighs. “I believe they are currently engaged in quite the vigorous argument.”

Faustus shakes his head and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose with one elegantly gloved finger. “What is it this time?”

“Canterbury replaced the sugar in the break room with salt.”

“And Timber uses buckets of sugar in his coffee.” The bespectacled man rolls his yellow eyes, exhaling. “Apologies for this, Alois.” He starts towards the conference rooms, Trancy and Hannah following close behind.

The cacophonous sounds of shouting and laughter grows louder, diffused through the air as they near the room.

“That’s disgusting, Canterbury!”

“You should have seen your face…”

“I propose we all calm down.”

“That’s bloody easy for you to say, Thompson, you didn’t get a mug full of _salty shit_ -“

Claude sighs. “Timber is really hopeless until he’s gotten his morning coffee.” With a scowl he pushes open the door; three pairs of red eyes immediately fixate themselves on his figure and three mouths click abruptly shut.

“What is the meaning of this?” He raises an eyebrow imperiously. “Canterbury, have you been playing tricks again?”

The triplet on the right rubs the back of his neck. “H-hey, Claude. Mr. Faustus. Sir.”

“Yes, he has!” The one on the left, presumably Timber, is still scowling. “Bloody salt!”

The remaining purple-haired menace cocks his head. “And who’s your friend, spider-eyes?” He asks, looking perplexedly at the blonde who had accompanied Faustus into the room.

“I told you not to call me that.” The black-haired man sighs, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “And this is Alois Macken, the new Head of the department.”

All three immediately turn to Trancy. 

“Oh, the new Head?” One asks.

“How wonderful.” The middle one says.

“Never fear.” The cheeky, prankster one says. “You can’t do much worse than spider-eyes.”

Alois smirks, looking up at Claude, who is glaring at the three. “Spider-eyes?”

“He keeps a bloody great tarantula in his office. Uses it to scare the newbies.” The one on the end (Canterbury?) speaks up again. “He hasn’t tried it on you yet?”

Trancy chuckles. “No, fortunately. Though I’m fine with spiders.” He doesn’t see Claude raise his eyebrows in slight surprise. “I have a few butterflies myself. So, you three are the managers?”

“Yes, sir.” The one on the left bows, then the one in the middle and on the right follow in quick succession. Their coordination is impressive. 

“Timber.”

“Thompson.”

“And Canterbury, at your service, sir.”

~~~~~~

“Butterflies?” Claude asks when they are back in the elevator. “You are full of surprises, Mr. Macken.”

Alois shrugs. “They were a gift from my late aunt. A whole kaleidoscope of them… that’s a group. Of butterflies.”

“Ah.” Faustus pauses. “You know, it’s acceptable for the execs to keep pets in their office, provided they’re not too intrusive and they stay on the top floor.”

The blonde frowns. “Really?”

The spectacled man rolls his eyes. “Vincent is very fond of animals, and we all spend more time in our offices than in our apartments; Grell actually has a couch in his office that doubles as a pull-out bed and I believe Will keeps a cot in his closet. It would be illogical to keep pets at home. Sebastian has a raven and a cat.” He frowns. “Don’t mess with his cat, they will both scratch you up. He loves that mangy fleaball.”

“Anything other animals I should be concerned about?”

“Well…” Claude adjusts his glasses. “It’s usually my tarantula newbies have the biggest problem with, actually. So you should be fine. Though William has a couple of pigeons and Grell a cockatiel and a gerbil, so if you have any allergies it would be advisable to stay out of their offices.”

“This office sounds like a pet store. Or a circus.” Alois frowns. “And Ciel’s allergic to cats.”

“Sebastian’s feline is hypo-allergenic.”

Trancy nods. “Hmm.”

~~~~~~

Later, Alois peeks into the various offices around the exec floor, trying to catch a glimpse of the animals Faustus had mentioned. Birds seem to be a popular choice; Trancy thought the room would smell of bird waste, but the cages are immaculate and scentless. They actually add a bit of taste to the rooms; golden filigree in Grell’s case, a practical silver box connected to the window for William (which actually does house a couple pigeons), etc. The noise isn’t irritating at all either; the animals are very well behaved, letting out only the occasional warbling coo or soft meow.

It’s nice, he thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: So. The animals thing. I’m sorry, I had to. Does it work? Just pretend this exec floor is really big and animals aren’t irritating in the slightest.
> 
> Also, I don’t know why, but I laugh whenever I re-read the “salty shit” line.
> 
> And a group of butterflies is actually called a kaleidoscope…


	4. Maroon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Grell discuss the company's new hires and reminisce about college.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: Augh, I'm sorry for being non-updating trash. Last chapter was actually the last pre-written one I'd done, so updates might be a little slower. Sorry.
> 
> A lot of this chapter is an adaptation of "The Tale of Will The Reaper", the OVA from Season 2.
> 
> Also, we get lots and lots of Grelliam! Woo!

Will is settling down after the arrival of the two newbies; new coworkers are always such a nuisance. Network accounts to set up, laptops and touchphones to log… At least these two are relatively young; he’s had quite enough of coaching elderly folk through how to use Microsoft Office.

Of course, right after he’s found a comfortable position in his desk chair and opened up his laptop, the door to his office bursts open.

“Will!” A flash of red hair and the scent of strawberry and pomegranate fills his nose. He huffs and adjusts his glasses.

“Grell.” William sighs, frowning. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have work to do?”

The other grins, teeth glinting. “Oh, I finished drawing up the flowchart of how the newbies could turn out. Wanna see?”

“I thought you were meant to be working on the rough draft of the Company’s business plan for this summer.”

“Oh, Will!” Sutcliff mock swoons. “You do care!”

Spears rubs his forehead. “Again, why are you here?”

The red-haired menace pulls his computer out from under his arm. “Here, look at this.” He drags the chair that’s typically sat on the other side of Will’s desk behind the table, seating himself in it and setting his laptop carelessly atop a few sheets of paperwork that still needed a signature, messing up the careful organization. “It’s a diagram of how the new recruits are gonna do.”

Will’s eyebrows knit closer together. “You think they’re going to stay for that long?”

“Well…” Grell turns slightly more serious, leaning back and watching as his green-eyed companion scans the screen. “There’s something different about these two. They’re not like the last ones we fired.”

“Oh? How so?” As much as it pains him to admit it, Grell is quite possibly one of the most brilliant people Will knows, and is quite good at reading people and predicting behavioral patterns. “They don’t seem that special.”

Sutcliff leans over and rests his chin on Spears’ shoulder. The other doesn’t shrug him off.

“Well,” he says, pursing his lips, “Vincent seems to like them well enough. Though he seems to like everyone… doesn’t mean he actually likes them.”

“One needs more than the favor of the CEO to maintain a career in the exec level of a Fortune 500 company.” Will counters. “As we both know.”

~~FLASHBACK~~ 

“Mr. Alan Humphries and Mr. Eric Slingby… and Mr. Grell Sutcliff and Mr. William Spears.” The instructor reads from his paper, voice monotonous and tired from the stress of finals week. “Now, the final is actually a paired project.”

Will frowns. Grell Sutcliff? He doesn’t know much about the other boy; only that he is the resident diva and socialite, has the brightest red hair he’s ever seen, and is a menace to the Prefects. 

“You will be assessing and improving a data collection server and figuring out how to update not only the software but the data collection strategy.” The professor pulls up a rubric on his laptop, projecting it onto the board. “Each person must do an equal amount of work. This project will eventually incorporate aspects of both business strategy and information technology, so keep that in mind.”

~~~~~~

“This is an outrage!” Grell shouts, a flush blooming high on his pale cheeks. “I am one of the top students in this class, you can’t possibly pair me with this B-average cretin!”

Will raises an eyebrow. It seems like Sutcliff will be even more of a nuisance to deal with than he anticipated. Honestly. Throwing a temper tantrum like a child. He adjusts his glasses.

“Mr. Sutcliff.” The professor, usually a cheerful man, is frowning disapprovingly. “Might I remind you that you currently have a C average in the Information Technology section of this class, despite your triple-A in Business Politics.” 

The red-haired menace huffs and crosses his arms, seemingly mollified. “Fine.” He turns to Will. “Just don’t get in my way.”

Professional courtesy, he reminds himself, restraining his facial expression and nodding. No matter how bratty the perpetrator may be. “Very good. I look forward to working with you.”  
~~~~~~  
“Alright.” They’re sitting at a table in the library, facing each other, Will’s laptop already open and booting up.

“What are we doing?” Grell sighs, dragging a hand through soft red hair. “I’m not working together with you. Let’s split up this stupid project.”

Will cocks an eyebrow, eyes not leaving the screen. He swiftly decrypts the security he’s set up and opens the project file. 

“It appears,” he says, “that there are two parts to his exam; a practical portion, which involves developing advanced processes for data gathering, and a theoretical portion, which involves building up firewalls around the collected data.” Spears looks up. “I propose you take the practical portion, Mr. Triple A, and I will cover the theoretical portion.”

Sutcliff’s eyes widen, eyebrows twitching in indignation. “What? Oh, hell no.” He slams a palm on the table. “I am good at everything this class entails and I can bloody well prove it. I’ll do the theoretical part!”

“I…” Will frowns. “Do not believe that to be the most advisable route of action-“

The red-haired man across from him scoffs. “I don’t give a rat’s arse about what you believe. I’m taking it, and that’s final.” A wicked grin begins to creep up his cheeks. “Do tell me if you need any help, B-boy.”

Spears scowls.

~~~~~~

They’ve been through several sessions, Grell complaining and doodling, Will ignoring him and tapping away at his computer. Despite the redhead’s time wasting, though, whenever he checks up on his section of the project he seems to be making good progress.

It’s the day before the due date and Will is finishing his portion. 

“Really, Spears.” Grell had stopped calling him ‘B-boy’, thank the deities, but he somehow manages to make the last name William has always been secretly fond of into a mocking insult. “Aren’t you done yet?”

William sighs. “I believe in double checking.”

“You’re so boring.” Sutcliff stands up and makes to leave. “See you tomorrow, dullard. Don’t screw up.”

~~~~~~

It’s four thirty in the morning and Will is sat in front of his laptop on the desk in his apartment, clad in mint-and-white striped pajamas, glasses slightly crooked and hair mussed, sticking up. 

Honestly. He rubs at the circles under his eyes, vaguely wishing he were able to fall asleep. 

Instinct draws him to open up the project files; might as well do a final check as long as he’s up, he supposes. 

“What the…” He mutters, frowning, eyes widening as he takes in the screen. “Oh, hell.”

Within minutes he’s typing furiously, lines of code reflected in the glare of his spectacles. There is a glaring hole in the server’s security; one that a hacker skilled enough would be able to wriggle through and access any data stored on there. The professor would certainly pick up on it.

Will scowls, fingers still pattering on the clicking keys. 

“Honestly.” He mutters, pausing to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “It looks like more overtime tonight.”

~~~~~~

When Grell walks into the empty lecture hall the next morning (yes, he’s early, what of it?), he’s not surprised to see William already at his middle-row seat.

Spears’ appearance does take him slightly aback, though.

The usually composed man is disheveled and frowning, shadows under his bright green eyes contrasting against his pale skin even more than usual. He looks like he’s near to falling asleep in his chair as well; a black-haired head is propped in one large hand and thin fingers massage at tense temples.

“Spears.” The redhead greets him, sitting down beside him. William looks up, surprised at his decision to take the seat beside him.

The black-haired man doesn’t say anything, just nods and closes his eyes again, resting his cheek back on the heel of his palm. It’s… actually slightly concerning, Sutcliff thinks.

Grell nudges him. “Spears? Are you… alright?”

“Of course I’m not alright, you bloody twat.” Will painstakingly open his eyes again and rolls them, ignoring the stab of pain that sears his frontal lobe, putting as much derision as he is physically capable of into the action and scowling at him. “I was up the entire night fixing your damn mistakes.”

The redhead raises his eyebrows. “I think that’s the most curse words I’ve ever heard you say in quick succession, Mr. Prim and Proper.” 

“Shut it, Lady Gaga.”

“And what mistakes did I make?” Grell frowns and crosses his arms. “I double-checked my work, it was flawless.”

Spears resigns himself to explaining the eccentricities of network security to yet another technology simpleton. 

“You left the back ports wide open.”

“No, I didn’t, I covered them with the WPA gate.”

“If the perpetrator uses a rabbit, lets out a distraction for the bots to chase,” Will closes his eyes again. “Then the back port is easily taken advantage of.”

Grell’s eyes widen and he pulls out his computer, sparing his partner a glance when he lets his head fall to rest on his forearms. He opens up their project portal, eyes widening as he reads through the changes his partner has made.

“…bloody hell, Spears.” Sutcliff stares nearly breathlessly at the lines of code. “This is more than… genius, this…” He exhales. “It’s amazing. You turned a network security issue into a work of art.” It’s honestly fantastic; the code seems to weave itself together into a shield before his astonished gaze.

William peers up with one tired eye. He doesn’t respond to the redhead’s praise.

“What were you doing up at four am, anyways? Your log says you started editing at four thirty.”

“…I have insomnia.” Spears gives his head a small shake to clear it. “Not severe, but chronic.”

The redhead considers him wordlessly before pushing his cup of coffee towards his partner. 

“Here. You look like you need it more than I do.” He allows a small, gentle smile to soften his face, brushing its warm fingertips over the corners of his mouth.

“…what kind?” It says a lot that Will doesn’t even protest, merely squints his eyes at the offering.

Grell grins. “Two creams, three sugars.”

Spears rolls his eyes. “No, thank you. “ He pauses. “Not that the… gesture isn’t appreciated, but I don’t take cream. And three sugars is a bit much.”

“There’s the cynical Spears.” Sutcliff nudges his exhausted partner good-naturedly, then shuts his computer and stands up. “I’ll be right back, my darling!”

Will musters up the energy to mutter, “I am not your darling…” at the slowly retreating black and red form.

~~~~~~

Of course, when Grell returns five minutes later bearing another coffee (black, two sugars, just the way Will likes it) and a pair of pastries, he can’t bring himself to be irritated.

~~~END FLASHBACK~~~

William rolls his eyes, leaning back in his desk chair. “Honestly.” He nudges the arm of his glasses with a fingertip. “Out of all the people in that classroom, I had the misfortune of being paired with you.”

“Oh, you loved it.” Grell teases, shoving him with one white-gloved hand. “Don’t deny it. And I saved your arse during the presentation.”

“I did not enjoy doing all your work for you.”

The redhead is not deterred, clapping a hand to his heart dramatically and faking a swoon. “You were absolutely overjoyed when we got our first jobs! Working together at Shinigami Inc., moving swiftly up the ranks, you and me, together, always…”

“You know, sometimes I wonder what would have happened had Shinigami Inc. not been bought by the Funtom Co.”

Grell grins. “Oh, we would still be together, Will. There is nothing in this universe that could separate me from you…” He pauses. “Well, nude photos of Bassy might give me pause. Oh… Mmmm…”

Will’s eyebrow twitches and he sighs, taking his head in his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: So I'm giving Will some of my attributes... I drink coffee black, two sugars, and it seems like something he'd enjoy. Grell, on the other hand... you know that rascal is filling his cup with cream and flavourings.
> 
> And- for those wondering- I'm going to address the issue of Grell's gender later in the story, as (I think?) they're a canon transwoman, but I feel (and yeah, it's not my place to choose another's gender for them but this is my story so bugger off) their character is textured more... nonbinary or genderfluid (or genderneutral?) with a lean towards the female persuasion.


End file.
